Having secured her prize, Lady Catherine was not one to rest on her conjugal laurels. She worked diligently to establish the de Bourgh’s place in fashionable society to every extent possible by giving Sir Lewis those hints as to dress and conversation which he was likely to adopt to please his wife; and, in time, she succeeded so far in her reformation as to persuade Sir Lewis of the necessity of obtaining an acceptable town residence, in addition to a country estate worthy of an union of wealth and family. A terrace house of four stories, a garden, and mews expeditiously replaced Sir Lewis’s original London habitation at the request of Lady Catherine. Sir Lewis had long lived in the city, for the practical purposes of attending his business in Threadneedle Street; to promote Lady Catherine’s happiness, soon after his marriage, he acquired a large house in Mayfair, off Curzon Street. The house was of the best quality, and the first and second floors permitted a sufficient view of the Serpentine and Rotten Row such that Lady Catherine could determine instantly if activity in either required her notice. The general din resulting from the low company of the corner was generally considered more a deterrent than an attraction, especially when any speech or parade would attract throngs of noisy spectators, or if a squall should arise, the scores of open carriages dashing head-long through the crowds in an effort to preserve the silks and bonnets of the fair atop the box, and heedless young men come from Rotten Row in their curricles, trampling over old and young, fair and poor, animals, carts, and tents in their flight, all protesting in the loudest (and frequently coarsest) accents their lungs would produce. Amidst such harmonious murmurings and illustrious scenes, Lady Catherine had been heard to repeat,

“My sister’s house is detached, and this a terrace, but Sir Lewis’s is four floors full above the ground—not to mention the attics—two detached buildings for the kitchens, and the entire width of the garden for the mews. My sister must suffer the inconvenience of walking to the second floor to see even so much of the Park as Broad Walk, and even then may do so only in winter, whilst I may see the whole of the corner, and that year-round, from the window of my own sitting-room, not to mention that hers—I must add—faces full north, most inconvenient in exactly the months one would wish to use it.”